


muse

by kuro49



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3197534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is the hot sweat, on a cold stage.</p><p>Or Mako’s in a band, and Herc’s not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	muse

He doesn’t meet her through one of her shows, and he doesn’t meet her backstage.

So, the question becomes, how does a man like Hercules Hansen meet a girl like Mako Mori?

 

The stage is cold, even with the spotlight hitting her skin like the sun.

And she cannot see where he is, from her place on the stage, where there is only music running from an extension of the tips of her fingers.

It is the hot sweat, on a cold stage.

And she always comes off the stage with her hands like ice and the rest of her feeling like a fire still trying to burn itself out. She comes off the stage with her drumsticks clutched in one hand, while the other is already reaching for a drink.

Mako might not be their lead but every show takes it out of her, and it’s a thrill still every time. She doesn’t see him until there is the touch of chilled plastic to her arm, a quick touch that has her turning until Mako is looking at Herc and he is twisting off the cap of the water bottle.

“Miss Mori.”

She takes the offer from his hands, takes a long drink, and lets him watch the bob of her throat as she swallows and swallows.

“No flowers this time?”

“Learned my lesson the first time,” He says, dragging blunt nails across the scruff at his jaw, wincing at the memories of Raleigh giving him a second take as he walked in, Tendo bursting into laughter, and Chuck turning an embarrassing shade before the yelling started.

“The band might not like it.”

She tells him, and ends it at that.

“…But you did.”

She laughs, and he thinks he can deal with all the yelling for a fraction of this. Herc doesn’t always make it to their every show, but each one he’s at, he figures he can make it a habit of keeping his girl happy.

“They might not like it too because I did not share the chocolate that came with the flowers.”

“Rockstars like them,” He grumbles, catching sight of the expression the kid makes from across the crowded room when he sees his drummer next to his old man, “They can afford their own chocolate.”

She doesn’t laugh but she does grin with her lips still wrapped around the mouth of the bottle, finishing off that last drink of water. And when she is done, she thanks him as she waves at Chuck from right where she is.

He is not her muse but she might be his.

He leans over and presses a kiss to her temple, tastes the salt from the sweat before she is tilting her head back for him to press another to her opened mouth.

 

She is on the drums, hitting each note, setting the thrum of the soul of every song the band’s decided to play tonight.

And he is no stranger to their music, from his place in the back of the crowd, watching the swing of those blue strands around the curve of her cheeks.

It is the hot sweat, on a cold stage.

Before all that though, there is the four of them in a garage. One that has her breaths coming in short bursts of condensation because it’s the dead of winter.

Her hands are in mittens and she’s got her coat on. She’s about to leave but she turns back to where Mr. Hansen has taken over the garage after the band’s practice with his bike and an old Henley smeared with engine oil across the front.

The rest of her boys are not here, and she doesn’t know where this courage comes from but it’s here and it’s not burning out. It reminds her of the moment before the lyrics come to her, with Tendo humming a new tune, Chuck scribbling notes, and Raleigh singing the words from her lips.

“You should come.”

He barely startles but she has him turning until he is looking right at her. She says this with a calm that doesn’t exist, not since the band’s got the call over two weeks ago for their first gig that isn’t another video on their youtube channel or a local bar that pays in beer.

“Chuck wouldn’t appreciate it.”

She is biting back a grin, and he can tell because they both know Chuck doesn’t appreciate much for what isn’t music or his dog.

“I would.”

“Miss Mori—”

She doesn’t need to get on her toes, she doesn’t need him to be her muse for her to want him this way. She also doesn’t need to play her music for him to want him to hear it, and she thinks he can understand all that when her mouth meets his.

“Mr. Hansen, I like you a lot.”

She tells him when she is standing back on the balls of her feet, her face is warm but his is hot so she taps the end of her drumsticks against his chest.

 

He is not their manager, and he is not part of the band.

But he is no stranger to their music either.

The answer to that question, of how a man like Hercules Hansen meets a girl like Mako Mori, well, the answer becomes him meeting her through the banging coming from his garage.

 

XXX Kuro

**Author's Note:**

> This is the combination of this prompt: [you’re the drummer for my ~~brothers~~ son's band and i find you really hot AU](http://nvclearsoulsarchive.tumblr.com/post/90608551960/just-another-really-long-aus-i-really-want-post) and this song: Emily Wells’ _Excerpts from a Letter_.


End file.
